Song of Lunch (After)
by lejardine
Summary: He leaves the restaurant angry with himself but he runs in to another She. Alan Rickman, Song of Lunch, one shot


_This is a continuation from the BBC Drama 'Song of Lunch'. This is a one shot so no continuation._

He could have gone back to work but instead he chose to walk home. The fresh air would do good to clear his still slightly drunk mind. He chose the quieter ways home avoiding the touristy areas even though they were the quicker ways home. At two in the afternoon he reached home and trudged through the front door throwing his bag on the floor. His coat was hung up and his shoes were kicked off to the side. To tired to do anything else he lie on the couch and fell asleep.

A few hours later he woke hungry. To tired and in to much of a bad mood to cook he put back on his shoes and jacket making sure he had his wallet and keys and headed around the corner to a little diner. He ordered the same thing he always did, veal Parmesan. And like clockwork he always managed to get the same waitress, the tall graceful buxom raven-haired woman who always sat with him on her break. Tonight would be no different. They sat together as he ate and she sipped on a large mug of black coffee.

"How was your day?" she asked after a sip of coffee. Should he answer her truthfully or just give her a one-word answer? _No, a one-word answer would be rude and she was too kind to him over the months that he's been going to this hole in the wall that made excellent food._

"I met an old girlfriend from fifteen years ago." He answered. He'd tell her more if she asked but he was too hungry at the moment to continue.

"And? How'd it go?"

"I got too drunk, pissed her off, and then got up to use the loo only to find myself awaking on the roof of the building. Apparently sleeping off my buzz."

"Oh." She answered looking in to her cup. "How long were you asleep for?"

"Less then an hour, but when I got back down to the restaurant it was empty and she was gone and paid." He answered cursing himself inside. How could he have been so stupid? _He broke her heart. Then again, serves her right for breaking his._

"I see." She said as she continued to sip her coffee. "Is there a way for you to reach her and make amends?" she asked with hope filled eyes. God he loved those eyes. Those deep emerald green eyes that stood out against her tanned skin. In conversations past she hade mentioned she was of Syrian decent but had fare skin. Many times he wanted to move the long black locks of hair out of the way and kiss her. But many times he'd stopped himself, convincing himself that she did not feel the same and thus would probably piss her off too.

"No, there isn't. Best to leave things be at this point." He mumbled then took another bite of the veal. "How was your day?"

"Not very eventful until some Russian tourist came in piss drunk." He laughed. "No really, piss drunk. He pissed himself over in the corner there." She said as she pointed to the corner in the back. "Somehow though it was the loo." She shook her head at that.

"What happened to him?"

"We called the police and they arrested him for public drunkenness and public indecency. He at one point exposed himself to some of the female patrons." The squeamish look on her face made him smile. "He was so unclean too." She finished off her coffee and sat staring out the window. He stared at her taking in the angular jaw and long strong neck. Her shoulders were wide and her breasts were large and full. Her waist was small and from the many times he'd seen her walk away from him her hips were wide and her butt was perfectly rounded. And she walked on gorgeously long legs.

Every so often he would give her a hug good bye and whenever he did she was just three or four inches shorter than him. He finished up his meal and sat and continued to look at her. It was then that she turned her head and looked at him.

"When's your birthday?" she asked.

"Next week actually, on Friday. Why?"

"Just wondering." She answered. She stood and stretched and looked down at him standing closer to him than she would anyone else. "Are you done?"

"Yeah." She picked up his plate and carried it to the back to wash then returned.

"Is there anything else you would like?" he sat there and looked at her and a sly grin came across his face.

"You?" she smiled at that but didn't blush. She bent down sliding the check on to the table.

"Whenever and wherever you want love." She answered as she kissed him on the cheek. Quickly he pulled out his wallet and paid the check then gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"See you then." He turned and left her there. He didn't take her answer seriously. He didn't see her face fall as he walked out.

Friday came and he left work tired and wanting to just sleep the weekend away. There was no party for him or a wish for a happy birthday from any of the other editors. He'd simply gone to work as if it were any other day. Upon returning home he dropped his bag, shrugged off his jacket, and kicked off his shoes. He sat on the couch and flipped through the channels for a while until he heard a loud knock on his door. Shutting off the TV he stood and trudged towards the sound. Who could possibly want to disturb him?

Not looking through the peephole of his door he unlocked the door and swung it open to find her, the tall buxom raven-haired waitress. She was his only visitor since he's known her. Their friendship was strictly a friendship, nothing more.

"Champagne and a fresh cooked meal for the birthday boy. I hope you haven't eaten yet." She said holding the two up.

"No, I haven't. Come in." he stepped aside taking the two from her. She removed her jacket and turned. She looked different. She wore a short black dress that was tasteful and heels. Her thick wavy hair was controlled. If Jessica Rabbit were a brunette and not a ginger this would be her. "It's still hot." He commented as he led her to the kitchen. She dolled out the food and they sat and ate in companionable silence. He could not believe she was here for him on his birthday. For fifteen years he'd spent birthdays and holidays alone.

After eating they cleaned up and he opened the champagne and poured them mugs full since he did not own champagne glasses. She kicked off her heels and walked up to him.

"A toast?"

"For?"

"Happier years to come." She whispered while smiling. Their mugs clinked together and they took a sip. She stepped closer to him as she placed her mug on the counter and gave him a hug. He placed his down and reciprocated. "I actually brought that for liquid courage but I don't think I need it." She commented. He was confused. _What would she need liquid courage for?_ It was then that he realized as she leaned closer and kissed him on the lips. She then pulled away with a smile.

He was surprised but wasn't against the sensation so he held her closer and continued to kiss her pulling her closer to the couch. He sat down and she sat on his lap straddling him. They continued to kiss and for the first time in fifteen years he was actually happy.


End file.
